


You Aren't on the Menu, Are You?

by preternatural_aura



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betaed, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Femboy hooters, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Painplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, author is trans masc, mason rapes a trans man who works at femboy hooters pretty much, this is not a nice fic, traditionally female gendered language used to refer to a trans man's genitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preternatural_aura/pseuds/preternatural_aura
Summary: Noah works at Femboy Hooters, a shady knock-off of Hooters. It's not the best job he's had, but it's not the worst either. That is until an overdressed man with an obnoxious laugh shows up.And Mason knows that he can get anything he wants if he pays enough.
Relationships: Mason Verger/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	You Aren't on the Menu, Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags, this contains rape and derogatory and fetishizing comments about a trans man. Mason is not a nice person in this. Words like cunt, clit, and g-spot are used to describe Noah's genitals. I am also trans masc. If this will trigger or upset you, please do not read it.
> 
> That being said, thank you for reading and feel free to leave a comment and kudos if you liked it :)
> 
> Betaed by Solar_System

Noah thought it wasn’t so bad. The tips were good and his coworkers were nice. Mostly, though, it was all he could get. It was in a shady part of town and sometimes he wondered if it was associated with the actual Hooters. He hadn’t really identified as a femboy, but he wasn’t averse to the idea, confident in his gender after being out and transitioned for several years. It did mean he had to shave the hair on his chest and stomach and legs and face, which was a pain, but he did it nonetheless.

It was two in the afternoon which meant it was slow and boring. He was the only waiter working, along with one host, one cook, and the manager who was passed out in the break room. Noah was just finishing cleaning up the table of the only customers they had when he saw a man walk in. The man was overdressed in a weird suit that probably costs more than Noah made in two months. Contrasting his fancy, if strangely patterned suit, his hair was sticking up in all directions. And when he walked in, he stared at Noah, making eye contact before looking him up and down. Certainly not uncommon, but it still made him feel vulnerable in his hooters crop top and short shorts.

The host glanced at Noah anxiously before greeting the man and taking him to a table. Noah brought the dishes back to the kitchen and went back out to greet the man.

“Hello, my name is Noah, I’ll be your server today, can I start you with anything to drink?” He went through the motions, saying the script he always said.

The man looked over Noah’s body, very obviously taking his time. Noah was used to this, though usually it isn’t just one man in an otherwise empty restaurant. After what was probably too long, the man finally ordered a sugary cocktail that he didn’t sound too enthused about ordering.

“Can I see your ID, sir?” Noah asked. It wasn’t necessarily common for him to ask, particularly since his manager encouraged the staff not to ask because alcohol made more money than soda. But Noah was curious about his name.

The man fumbled for a moment trying to get his ID out and handed it over with a wink. Noah barely looked at the birthday, paying more attention to the name. Mason Verger. It sounded a little familiar, but nothing specific came to mind. He handed the ID back and left to get the drink order. Noah had to double as a bartender because they were understaffed.

He delivered the cocktail that Mason did not seem particularly interested in, choosing instead stare at Noah’s ass.

“Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?”

“I’d prefer to have you, but you aren’t on the menu, are you?” he punctuated his own joke with a loud and obnoxious laugh. “I guess I’ll have a burger.”

Noah assured it would be right out, stumbling over his words. Something about Mason made him feel uneasy, scared even. As he turned around, Mason pinched his ass and he squeaked. He hurried to the kitchen, blushing and embarrassed and followed by Mason’s ugly laughter.

Noah hid in the kitchen, nervously checking twitter and dreading going back out there. The cook shot him a sympathetic look, but otherwise said nothing. When the burger was ready, Noah ventured out to deliver it, hopefully he’d be able to get in and out with minimal groping.

He set the plate down on the table and asked if Mason needed anything else.

“Actually, you know what, it’s quite lonely eating alone, I thought maybe you could join me.” Mason grabbed Noah by the waist and pulled him into the booth with him, his arm firmly holding Noah in place. Noah looked around the dining area for the host or the cook or any other customers but he saw no one.

“Don’t worry,” Mason said. “I made sure we would be alone. I am a very rich man after all, and money talks.” He laughed again, loud and grating in Noah’s ears.

Mason took a bite of the burger and chewed it a few times, almost in the same way a rich person drinks wine, before spitting out the half chewed burger onto his plate.

“It’s hard to eat garbage when one is so used to the finer things in life,” Mason spat with disgust, staring right at Noah when he says garbage.

Noah felt Mason’s hand slide up his thigh and Mason grinned at him and he felt sick to his stomach. “You know,” Mason began, “they made it so easy for me. The manager, the cook, even the little host boy were bought and paid for. Not even for that much. To buy an hour of the place, all to myself, the whore included. How does it feel to be sold? They didn’t even put up a fight, they just took the money and turned their heads. There’s no one coming to your rescue.”

The panic that had been welling up, the fear, the betrayal, washed over him and he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even move. Mason shoved the plate and drink back and picked Noah up by the waist and sat him on the table.

“It turns out that you are on the menu,” Mason sneered.

Noah was paralyzed by fear. Mason started touching his stomach, his hands inched up to feel under his crop top, pushing it up and exposing his chest. His hands ran over the skin, pinching his nipples and groping at the skin.

Against his will, he started to feel himself get wet. It had been a while since he had sex and maybe he was a little pent up, but he didn’t want it like this. His heart hammered in his chest. His body felt confused.

“You know, I’ve never fucked anyone like you before,” Mason said and Noah was hit with another wave of nausea. “You hardly even look it.”

Noah flinched as Mason’s hands dipped down to cup his crotch. “I had wondered if you had a cunt or not. Having one certainly makes things easier. And it’s not every day you get to fuck a boy pussy.”

Mason pinched Noah’s chin between his thumb and index finger, holding his head in place while Mason kissed him. Noah refused to kiss back or even open his mouth. This only seemed to excite Mason more, who pried open Noah’s jaws with his fingers so he could tongue fuck his mouth. Noah bit down and tasted blood. Mason yelped. “Well you are a fiery one after all, I didn’t think you had it in you!” He laughed his awful laugh and Noah spat in his face.

Mason slapped him in the face. Hard. His ear was ringing so loud he couldn’t even hear the laughter for a few seconds. He slid his hands under Noah’s ass and spread his cheeks. One hand slipped under the tacky orange shorts and under the briefs he was wearing underneath to feel the edge of his cunt.

“Despite your protests, you feel pretty wet. Are you enjoying this? Are you getting off to being raped in public? You’re a dirtier slut than I was expecting. You do work here. I bet that little host boy, he can’t be older than 18, such a sweet kid, I bet he would put up a fight. I bet it would hurt when I fucked him. But you, you’ll probably like it, even if you act like you don’t. Or at least your cunt will.”

Noah wanted so bad to scream, to fight, to bite, but he realized there was nothing he could do. There was no one who would help him, so he just had to wait it out.

Mason shoved Noah down on the table as he slid out of the booth. He pushed Noah’s crop top up and yanked his shorts and underwear off. Noah tried to close his legs, but Mason grabbed them and pulled them apart.

Against his will, tears built up in Noah’s eyes. He was exposed and basically naked in the middle of his work and about to be raped. Mason pinched his clit hard and laughed when he flinched and squirmed.

“Crying already?” Mason said, more to himself, before procuring a small square of paper and dabbing it to the corner of Noah’s eye before putting it in his pocket.

Mason shoved two fingers into Noah, quick and hard, fingering him for just a few seconds, and curling his fingers up to press on Noah’s g-spot. Noah tried not to make any noise but it was hard to suppress the moan.

Without much preamble, Mason took his dick out of his pants and thrust into him. The stretch burned a little, but not as much as Noah would have anticipated and it made him feel dirty. If his skin wasn’t already red with embarrassment and arousal, he would have burned with shame. A few extra tears slid out and Mason bent over and licked a long strip up his face, tasting the tears. And then Mason straightened back up and began to thrust with vigor, not caring to wait for Noah to adjust.

Noah did his best to muffle his voice, so the sounds of skin slapping, wet fucking, and Mason’s shaky breaths filled the otherwise silent restaurant. He gripped the insides of Noah’s thighs, tightening his grip until Noah made a noise.

“There we go, squeal for me like a good little pig,” Mason snorted and a maniacal look took over his face.

It was like the floodgates were broken and Noah couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Mason only thrusted harder. Noah could feel his climax starting to build, without his consent or control. The onslaught was too much for him and all he could do was clench around the cock invading his hole. His orgasm took him by surprise, and by the look on Mason’s face, he seemed to be shocked as well. Mason recovered quickly and chuckled before he spat on Noah’s face. He muttered whore under his breath, loud enough so that Noah could hear.

He was sensitive after cumming and his hole felt sore and used and it hurt. Mason came to the sound of his whimpering, moaning someone’s name that Noah couldn’t quite make out, but it certainly wasn’t his own. Once he was done, Mason pulled out, tucked himself back in his pants, and walked out the door.

Noah picked his clothes up off the floor and put them back on. He noticed the money on the table and quietly pocketed it. He went to the bathroom, locked the door, slumped to the floor, and cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this was a self-indulgent cringey (basically) self-insert, what of it? It's labeled as "Femboy Hooters mistake" on my computer.
> 
> Also this is apparently not the only Mason/trans man oc on this site, so if you liked this, you should go check out the others.


End file.
